


Desert Rain

by wevegotworktodo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Language, Smut, Squirting, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:32:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wevegotworktodo/pseuds/wevegotworktodo
Summary: A night out at the bar leads to a revelation for the reader.





	1. Chapter 1

The smell of cigarette smoke is overwhelming, even burning your eyes a bit. You'd think you would be used to it by now, but every single time you walk into a bar your senses are assaulted. Grabbing two stools at the bar you order a couple of drinks while Dean immediately heads to the bathroom to take a leak. 

The indistinguishable scent of leather, coffee, and gun oil with just a hint of mint, breaks through the smoke, just before his hand touches your shoulder. It’s odd that you can pick up on this particular aroma when you're overcome with much stronger odors, but it's comforting, makes you feel safe in a weird way. 

You look up at Dean and smile as he claims the stool next to you. Picking up his glass he swirls the whiskey around before pulling a long draw from the tumbler. He sits the glass down and smacks his lips, bumps shoulders with you, “You did good out there tonight, kid.”

Signaling the bartender for another round, “Thanks.” Your lip turns up into a halfhearted smile. You're pondering now. Maybe it's not the scent at all that comforts you, maybe it's the presence of the person who happens to carry this unique musk. 

“Hey, you ok?” Dean looks concerned. 

Inhaling deeply you nod, “Yea, I'm good.” You decide to make the absolute best of the evening, regardless of the revelation of some stupid school girl crush on a Winchester. You lean left, bump shoulders with Dean, “Hey, you did good tonight too.” This time your smile’s genuine, and you can feel the small amount of tension break. 

It's silent between the two of you for a moment, sans the jukebox rockin’ out Lynyrd Skynyrd in the background, as you both contemplate what to say to the other next. You're thinking about just telling him, using some cliché pick up line to break the ice, turn the tables. 

“I told you we’re through!” The commotion behind you on the dance floor shakes you out of your delirium. 

“Nope. We're not over ‘til I say it’s over!”

You both turn to look. This guy… this guy, ‘bout Sam’s height and build, has his big burly hands squeezing into the shoulders of a petite little blonde thing as she struggles to get away. She does get away for all of about two seconds before the asshole is grabbing her again, shouting indecipherable expletives. Obviously there's not a bouncer and this is about to get ugly. 

Your reactions come simultaneously. 

“Son of a bitch!”

“Balls!” 

Dean turns to you, flashing his ‘did you really say that?’ look. 

“What? You're the one who keeps taking me there for crap, dude’s bound to rub off a little bit.” 

Dean shrugs it off. “You stay with her. I’ll take care of him.”

“No, your shoulder’s hurt. I'll get him,” you hop down off the stool, shoot back the last swig of whiskey still left in your glass, and crack your knuckles. “Besides, I think this one needs a girl to teach him a lesson.” You wink at Dean. 

He smiles at you and nods, heads towards the happy couple right alongside you. The girl breaks free again and before asshole can react you step between them. “Lady said you're done, so you're done.” 

Taken aback a bit by your statement he looks you up and down. “Yea, how you figure? Unless…you want some of this tube steak for yourself!” He's smiling as his hand grabs his crotch then he looks around you to the blonde whom Dean is standing guard, “Don't worry baby, there's enough of this to go around!” He laughs belligerently. You enjoy this part, makes what you're about to do to him all that much more fun. 

Before his laughter ends you make your first move, a well placed kick to the nuts. As predicted he bends over and grabs the family jewels, setting himself up perfectly for the roundhouse kick to the head. Since he's still conscious you decide to have a little discussion with him regarding his treatment of women. It was all explained to him in great detail, up close and personal so no one else could hear, but they all heard him say “yes ma’am” when you finished. 

You turn to Dean, to ask him if he’s ready to go, when asshole comes at you from behind. He's about as graceful as a baby giraffe, so it's easy to flip him over your shoulder and into the floor on his back. Dean doubles over in laughter as you press the sole of your red high heel over asshole’s mouth to shush him a second time, reiterating your dominance, and your point. 

 

You're both laughing hysterically as you make your way to the door, “My favorite part was when you put your heel on his face! Bahahaha!” 

“Hehehehe! Tube steak! Hahahahaha!”

Bursting through the exit together you expect the dry heat of the desert at night, but instead are met with the pouring rain. You both stop, somewhat startled. You glance at Baby, parked on the other side of the lot, then back to Dean who is taking in a deep breath, looking a little pissed over the inconvenience. You’re standing there working up the courage to make a run for it when you hear the music change inside the bar from some bull shit pop number to something slow straight out of Dean’s cassette collection. 

You take him by the hand, pulling him a couple of steps out from under the protection of the awning. Dean doesn't get it, doesn't realize what you're thinking. He’s still holding your hand, tugging you further into the parking lot. He gets a few good strides in before you come to a screeching halt. 

“What are you doin’? Come on!” 

You're already close to him, but you take a single step closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Don't miss a chance to dance in the rain.”

You're already swaying with the music, but Dean is still hesitant. You give him ‘the look’; the one generally reserved for getting your choice of bed or the last fry that fell to the bottom of the bag, the one that always makes him putty in your hands. “Yea, ok. I'm already soaked anyways, right?” He nods, placing his hands on your waist, pendulating with you. 

You agree, you are definitely soaking wet, and probably slightly insane, but this is the most intimate moment you've ever shared with Dean. With the recent revelation of your crush still boring into your mind you can't help but to throw yourself into this wholeheartedly. 

Taking your chance, you step even closer, pressing your body into his, tuck your chin into the crook of his neck. It feels good, his arms around you. You'd briefly questioned your thinking, but this, this feels right. Raising your head from his shoulder your hand moves up the nape of his neck and into his hair. Your face is only mere inches from his as you stare into those fucking beautiful eyes. 

The moment’s right, it's a now or never sort of situation. Without thinking you press your lips to his. They're obviously full, surprisingly soft, and you can taste a mixture of cheap whiskey and spearmint gum when his tongue ventures into your mouth. His hands move up your back, pressing your bodies together like he wants this, needs this as much as you do. The song changes, but neither of you notice, still dancing, still tangled together in the pouring rain. 

Dean breaks for air, pulls away slightly, searching out your eyes. “Y/N, are you sure about this?” he asks apprehensively, making sure you didn't just get caught in a moment. 

You place one finger over that full pout. “Shhhh. Just let me be selfish for once.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Shhhh. Just let me be selfish for once.” 

Dean nods, leans in again. 

Time stands still, fleeting moments turn into long minutes but neither of you notice, lost in each other as the world spins around you. Lightning flashes so brightly you can still see it behind closed eyes, the harsh crash of thunder that follows breaking you away from each other. 

Dean takes your hand, racing to Baby. He opens the back passenger side door, and you climb in just ahead of him, scooting over to allow him entrance, finally escaping the downpour. The cool leather barks as you slide across, bites as it pulls at your warmth. A shiver courses through you, undetermined if it's from the loss of heat or because Dean’s fingers just danced across your thighs. 

“You cold, sweetheart?”

You nod, bite your lip as you look up at Dean. He leans back, fishes the keys from his pocket, then climbs out, back into the rain. 

You've done a 180, unsure if this is a good idea, unsure if Dean really wants you or if he's just settling, maybe just giving in to your desires rather than his own.

The driver’s door creaking open brings you out of your thoughts. He's probably done this a million times before and Dean still smiles like a kid in a candy store when he hears her engine purr. You can't help but to grin at the most innocent thing this man does.

Now it’s a 360, an entire circumference. You've turned again, right back where you started from. That split second of innocence, almost vulnerability behind his genuine smile, makes you want to do naughty things. 

Dean turns to look at you and before he can say anything you're leaning up to kiss him. Grabbing him by his shirt you pull him into you. He pulls away, kicks his shoes off then does this weird roll over the front seat, landing beside you, ass in the seat, and you get the feeling it's not the first time he's done that. 

Another shiver courses through you, Dean using it to his advantage. “Should probably get you out of those wet clothes,” he says, raising one eyebrow. 

“Smooth move, Winchester,” you say, pulling the thin jacket down your arms, throwing it over into the front seat. You start to unbutton your blouse, stopped when Dean’s large hands cover your own. 

“I've got smoother.” He smiles, leans in. 

“Yea?” You cock an eyebrow just before he captures your lips with his, his hands now working the buttons on your shirt. “Let’s see them then.” you challenge.

“All in due time, Sweetheart.” He winks, makes your belly flutter. 

Dean doesn't stop with the buttons on your shirt, he works his way south while he's at it, unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans. He scoots over, gives you some room to wiggle out of them in the confines. Dean is doing the same, all but peeling his soaked clothing off. The end result leaves you in only your bra and panties, Dean in his boxer briefs. 

You lean back and he leans in, palms your ass as he looks you up and down. “I think I found the only place on you that isn’t wet.”

“Oh, it's wet.” you grin, guide his hand around and between your legs. 

Dean runs a finger under the seam, slides through your folds. “This all for me, or do you always get this turned on when you kick ass?”

“Nope, all for you,” now it's a smirk on your face and even in the dark you can tell Dean’s eyes light up. 

He slides a long thick digit into your dripping pussy, it's been so long since you've been touched like this, you can't help but to clench around him, a soft moan escaping your lips. Using his free hand he tugs down your bra cup, the soft cool lace moving across your skin, followed by the contrast of his calloused hands grazing across your goose pimpled flesh. 

He adds a second finger, curling them inside you in time with his fingers twisting around your nipple. Your head falls back, and this time when you groan Dean’s own chest rumbles, shifts in his seat. 

You gather your thoughts enough to rake your hand down his chest, fingertips tingling as they slide lower. The fabric of his boxers stretched thin under the strains of his hard cock, hips twisting as you palm his length. 

Somehow you manage to get the words out, “W-anna fe--feel you,” their brokenness spurring Dean on more. 

His lips wrap around yours as he slowly pulls his fingers from you, dips into the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs. You wiggle, and they fall to the floor where you toe them off. 

You paw at his underwear, manage to get them to his hips, and you don't give a shit, his cock is free so it's far enough. You scoot, feeling the slick of your pussy on the leather as you move. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, and there's no need to line himself up, the angle is perfect as presses forward, slowly pushing into your heat. Digging your heels into the small of his back you pull him closer, deeper. You raise your hips to meet his and now he's fully seated, balls deep, and you have to concentrate to keep from losing your shit, cumming on him before he ever fucking moves. 

God damn it does he move. The strokes are shallow, like he doesn't want to put much distance between your bodies, but they drag across all the right spots, the fire inside of you growing wilder with each pull, every push. You've already held back once, and now you're not sure you can again. You dig your nails into his shoulders, your palms just as alert as every other nerve ending, feeling each contortion of his muscles as they flex, as he hovers over you. 

The sexiest noise you've ever heard comes from low in Dean’s chest and his pace quickens. 

“I...I…ugh.” your ability to form words is completely fucking gone now. 

“Mmhmm, me too.” He growls, kissing you. This time though it's not deliberate or slow, it's feverish and needy, and sends an extra tingle to your core. 

Your walls tighten, and his cock swells, pushing you past the point of no return, grunting as the feeling washes over you. It's dark but light bursts behind your eyes, and your body goes rigid. Hot fluid gushes over your thighs, Dean’s own hips stuttering as he cums buried deep inside you. 

He lets his arms go, somehow still managing to keep most of his weight off of you, but pressing against you enough that you can feel it. There's no denying it, you'll carry the weight of Dean Winchester for the rest of your life.


End file.
